


for your enjoyment

by jehoney



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Jughead Jones, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, M/M, Movie Night, Multi, Oral Sex, Riding, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism, archie is good at eating girls out ok, betty is a sexual bean and I love her, jug watches his bf and gf go at it, lots of refernces to betty being an angel bc she is, pure filth, this is the best and greatest ot3, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-02 21:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10227986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehoney/pseuds/jehoney
Summary: When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, she means business.Well, maybe ‘business’ isn’t the right word for it. ‘Pleasure’, that would be the one. When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, it means pleasure. It means a loss of inhibitions, a shedding of constraint and conformity, it means hair tumbling over shoulders and the good, sweet, girl next door taking a well-earned day off.When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, her boyfriends know exactly what she means.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i bring you smut for the greatest ot3 in the fandom
> 
> badly written smut, but nonetheless!1!!
> 
> hope u enjoy x

When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, she means business.

Well, maybe ‘business’ isn’t the right word for it. ‘Pleasure’, that would be the one. When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, it means pleasure. It means a loss of inhibitions, a shedding of constraint and conformity, it means hair tumbling over shoulders and the good, sweet, girl next door taking a well-earned day off.

When Betty Cooper takes out her ponytail, her boyfriends know exactly what she means.

And Jughead Jones shoots Archie Andrews a knowing, sideways look, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth at the knowledge that the latter almost definitely has a semi already.

One time, she takes it out in the middle of Math class, sat two rows in front of the boys, who turn to each other with raised eyebrows. Archie actually starts to remove his jacket, and formulate an excuse to leave the lesson, before she’s putting it back up, scooping up the locks of blonde that had previously escaped the hair tie. He’s glad he has another half hour of the lesson to cool off. Jughead calls him ‘Algebra Slut’ for a week.

It’s impractical, really, the hair getting caught in mouths in heated moments, sticking to sweaty, scorching skin, but most times Archie and Betty are too busy to notice, and Jughead, watching, loves the strands that snake down her damp shoulders, loves to brush them from her flushed cheeks afterward and see the two of them utterly dishevelled.

And then, ten minutes later, she’ll close the bathroom door behind her and return to being infuriatingly and beautifully put together, hair tied high on her head, the only giveaway being Archie’s overexcited marks on her neck and shoulders, and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

It’s date night.

Although, with Jug staying at Archie’s and Betty living less than 10 feet away, they manage to make most nights date nights, but Tuesday nights mean Fred is out, and the house is theirs, and on alternating weeks each of them get to choose a movie. Jughead’s nights are the ones they always look forward to, because he’s either picked a mutually beloved classic, or an art- house horror; Betty’s choices consist of anything involving Leonardo DiCaprio and, on occasion, some Pixar animation.

Tonight, however, is Archie’s choice, and they’re stuck watching The Matrix Revolutions. Jughead can feel his brain seeping out of his ears.

Betty’s pressed between them, slowly losing the will to live with every line the piece of cardboard resembling Keanu Reeves utters, and Archie’s hand has been inching up her thigh for the past ten minutes. If there’s one thing worse than picking a truly awful film to watch, Jug thinks, it’s not even having the resolve to stick by your convictions and watch it through till the end. But Archie is incorrigible, and, in his defence, the last time the three of them had any alone time was last Wednesday, when they were cut off suddenly by the Coopers coming home early. Watching the two of them scramble for clothes has been filed away in Jug’s Top Ten Funniest Moments.

Archie’s hand is on Betty’s inner thigh, Jughead’s hand is on the bowl of popcorn, (the level of desire between them pretty much comparable) and the dark-haired boy leans forward to kiss just underneath her ear, and murmur,

“I don’t think Archie’s enjoying the film he’s chosen.”

And the redhead laughs, stretching across Betty to kiss Jug and nip at his lower lip, before falling back against the couch cushions, squeezing Betty’s leg lightly.

She shares a glance with Jug, and her hands reach up to loosen her ponytail, until the golden hair is tumbling around her shoulders, and Archie exhales shakily.

“I’ll be upstairs.”

With a rush of air, she’s gone, footsteps light on the stairs, leaving Archie and Jug to stare at each other for a moment before the former shuts the TV off and the latter shoves the remaining popcorn in his mouth, following the sway of Betty’s hips as she disappears into Archie’s room.

On the edge of Archie’s bed, she looks like some kind of glowing apparition, in the pair of his boxer shorts that she wears for pyjamas, and an old shirt of Jug’s, usually clear blue eyes clouded and a halo of gold around her shoulders.

Jughead approaches first, keen for involvement before it passes his threshold of what he’s comfortable with, and he threads a hand into her hair, bending to kiss her, deep and slow, her arms reaching up around his neck to pull him close. Their mouths are open, moving together hotly, but Jug’s aware of Archie’s lingering presence, and breaks away to see him standing, watching, rubbing himself through his pyjama pants. The dark-haired boy huffs out a laugh and feels Betty let him go, stealing a lingering kiss from the redhead as he takes his place between her legs, and Jug sits himself on the end of the bed, watching.

Archie and Betty’s kisses are faster than his own, imbued with their lust that he can’t mimic, and it’s not long before Archie’s large hands pick Betty up by the hips and shift them fully onto the bed, so she’s beneath him, covered by the warmth of his body. Involuntarily, she can feel her legs wrap themselves around Archie’s hips, and takes the opportunity when he pulls back for air to divest herself of her shirt, her nipples hardening in the cooler air, Archie’s hands moving up to cup her breasts completely, and rub them in a way that makes her gasp. And Jughead, voyeur that he is, smiles at the noises they make, soft and private, but shared with him.

He pulls at the hem of Archie’s shirt from behind, conscious that his hormonal brain is too caught up with the sight of breasts to undress himself, and pulls it over his head, throwing it aside and pressing chaste kisses to the line of the redhead’s spine, curved over Betty’s body, rewarded by a soft: “Oh, Jug…” that makes Betty laugh.

“I thought you couldn’t tell us apart for a second, there.” she says, breathlessly, leaning up for another burning kiss as Archie’s hands map their way down to the waistband of her shorts. Before dipping inside, he reaches into heat between her thighs, finding the shorts wet through and causing her to rub against his fingers through the fabric, moaning softly.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, and she huffs out, “Anything.”

Jughead, like the audience participation at a pantomime, leans over Archie’s shoulder and makes a suggestion, matter of factly.

“Why don’t you eat her out, Arch?”

The two share a smile, and Jug pulls back when Betty nods, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Archie continues to rub at the wet patch between her legs, as his mouth follows down the length of her body. It’s a slow process, mostly because Archie stops every minute to suck a bruise into her pale skin, or latch his lips around her nipple, making her arch off the bed with a moan that Jug silences with a kiss.

He’s shifted, so he’s sat by her head, and Betty is almost tempted to reach up or mouth at his semi, before she catches herself and remembers the ground rules they’ve laid, that Jug deals with his own involuntary bodily reactions. There’s just something about his eyes, piercing as they watch Archie’s hot mouth moving across her flesh, free of the lust she can feel clouding her own, and the small smile he thinks she doesn’t notice whenever she gasps or moans.  She satisfies herself with kissing him, because kissing is safe and Archie’s pulling the shorts down over her hips and spreading her legs and, oh God, she needs to concentrate on Jughead otherwise she won’t last much longer.

The cool air against her exposed wetness makes her shiver, and Archie teases, kissing everywhere but where she wants, dragging his mouth down her inner thighs until she winds a hand in his hair and pushes his face to her crotch, desperate and whining, with Jug watching in amusement.

And Archie starts with broad, flat licks of his tongue, up the length of her puffy slit, tasting her slick and pressing deeper, hands pushing her legs wider apart and his own hips humping the bedsheets, cock leaking. As her legs spread, she moans at the exposure, and he focusses his attention on her clit, small strokes making the hand in his hair tighten and her hips twitch.

“Oh! Oh fuck, Archie…”

She’s so wet, the mixture of his spit and her slick dripping onto the bedsheets and they should’ve put a towel down but there’s really no use now, so Archie concentrates on the precise stimulation of her sweet spot, and the larger, deeper strokes of his tongue, pressing inside her wet heat as far as he can before he needs to come up for air.

“Nononono don’t stop baby, please,” she whines, and he looks up to see Jughead combing through her hair and watching him, so shoots him a cheesy wink, nose and mouth messy with juices, and Jug laughs at his absurdness.

“Betts?” he hears Jughead murmur to her, “I think Archie wants you to finish with him inside you.”

And Archie is continually astounded at Jughead’s ability to read his mind. He knows that he could finish her now, and wait for her to recover enough energy to fuck, or ask Jug to help him get off, but he also knows at this time of evening Betty’s prone to post-orgasmic fatigue, meaning she’s likely to just roll over and sleep, and his cock is throbbingly painful for some sort of stimulation.

“Okay.”

Her smile might just be the most beautiful thing on the fucking planet, her head on Jug’s chest, nipples dark and sensitive and hair splayed out like molten metal on the dark grey of Jughead’s shirt.

So Archie wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and brings himself back upright, pulling off the flannel pants in a somewhat ungainly fashion. He expects Betty to stay lying, or prop herself further up on the cushions, but instead she brings herself to her knees, inner thighs glistening, and vacates the space she was previously occupying.

Jug, having a comprehensive knowledge of Archie’s nightstand, has grabbed him a condom, and indicates for Archie to lie down, kissing him hard as he does so, before moving back to resume watching. And Betty crawls over him, breasts hanging and cheeks flushed, taking her opportunity to suck a dark mark into the juncture of Archie’s neck as he rolls on the condom, whining at the cool latex on the head of his burning dick. She steadies herself on his shoulders and sinks down slowly, no extra lubrication needed for her swollen, slick heat that envelops his cock, sucking it in as she gasps into his neck, a murmured litany of “Oh God, Oh God.” accompanying the movement.

“You’re so beautiful, Betts.” He hears Jughead say as she seats herself fully on him, and tries to echo the sentiment, but all that comes out is a mangled groan, and the tightening of his hands on her hips.

She rakes her hands down his chest and toys with his nipples as she pulls up slowly to the tip of Archie’s cock, and sinks back down, the familiar fullness and the rub of her clit against him every time she’s seated to the hilt bringing out a gasp. She wants to fuck herself hard and fast, so speeds up, slick sounds filling the room until her legs begin to tire and she hears Jug say, “Lie her down and fuck her, Arch.” And he does what he’s told, leaning her back, never pulling out completely and driving into her now that he has the leverage, burying his face between her tits and his cock deep inside of her pressing deliciously. Jug comes back into the picture to kiss her, swallowing her sounds so all that can be heard is Archie’s grunts, and the sounds of skin against wet skin, and she manages to reach a hand under to rub at the head of her clit, feeling the cock disappearing inside the folds and stimulating herself until she’s coming, hard.

“Shit! Archie—Jug—oh fuck!”

The pulsing around Archie’s cock is almost too much, but he rides out the waves of her orgasm with her, trying his best to keep a steady pace that eventually proves to much for her, overstimulated and dripping, and he pulls out to jerk himself two final times and come with Jughead’s lips mouthing just under his jawline, head thrown back and kneeling between Betty’s spread legs. And the moment is frozen for a good minute, the only sound being their deep, exerted breathing, the comedown from the high slow and luxurious.

They glow, and Jug can feel himself becoming a sap just by thinking that, but it's true. As Archie leans over Betty to kiss her one last time, slow and tender, they’re radiating something intangible that makes Jug smile to himself, pushing off the bed and digging through Archie’s dresser to find them both something clean to sleep in, the messy pair. He hands Betty an old shirt, and a pair of her own underwear, that seem to have taken up residence in Archie’s drawers, as she brushes past him on her way to the bathroom, kissing him on the cheek.

“I love you.” She whispers in his ear, and Jug blushes, like he does every time either of them say it, returning the sentiment quietly and watching her figure disappear out of the door.

Archie’s disposed of the condom and pulled on a pair of briefs, already under the rumpled covers and eyeing Jug with a smug, sated smile.

“Are you gonna…?”

He eyes roam to Jughead’s crotch as the question hangs unfinished in the air, but Jug just shakes his head. He can feel he’s still only half hard in his sweatpants, and definitely does not have the energy to bring himself off completely, so he figures he’ll leave it to die down. If it’s still hanging around in the morning (which it probably will be, him being in bed with two warm bodies all night), he’ll slink off into the bathroom and deal with it by himself. He likes doing the watching, but not being watched.

So, Archie nods, and pulls back the covers for him, throwing a loose arm around his torso and plucking the beanie off his head to set it on the nightstand. They fit together, breathing matching in the dim light, and they’re both half asleep by the time Betty returns.

Through their semi-consciousness, she glides through the doorway, shutting off the light and curling up beside Jughead in the pale darkness.

Smile soft on her lips, ponytail high on her head.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is filth lol


End file.
